Part 28 (1/2)

Thanksgiving Day was celebrated with due observance. In the morning we all heard Dr. Lyman preach, and came home with the feeling that we and the country at large were prosperous. Mr. and Mrs. Jones, with Junior, dined with us in great state, and we had our first four-course dinner since arriving in Maizeville, and at the fas.h.i.+onable hour of six in the evening. I had protested against my wife's purpose of staying at home in the morning, saying we would ”browse around during the day and get up appet.i.tes, while in the afternoon we could all turn cooks and help her.” Merton was excepted, and, after devouring a hasty cold lunch, he and Junior were off with their guns. As for Bobsey, he appeared to browse steadily after church, but seemed in no wise to have exhausted his capacity when at last he attacked his soup, turkey drum-stick, and the climax of a pudding. Our feast was a very informal affair, seasoned with mirth and sauced with hunger. The viands, however, under my wife's skill, would compare with any eaten in the great city, which we never once had regretted leaving. Winifred looked after the transfers from the kitchen at critical moments, while Mousie and Winnie were our waitresses. A royal blaze crackled in the open fireplace, and seemed to share in the sparkle of our rustic wit and unforced mirth, which kept plump Mrs. Jones in a perpetual quiver, like a form of jelly.

Her husband came out strong in his comical resume of the past year's experience, concluding: ”Well, we owe you and Mrs. Durham a vote of thanks for reforming the Bagley tribe. That appears to me an orthodox case of convarsion. First we gave him the terrors of the law. Tell yer what it is, we was a-smokin' in wrath around him that mornin', like Mount Sinai, and you had the sense to bring, in the nick of time, the gospel of givin' a feller a chance. It's the best gospel there is, I reckon.”

”Well,” I replied, becoming thoughtful for a moment with boyish memories, ”my good old mother taught me that it was G.o.d's plan to give us a chance, and help us make the most of it.”

”I remembered the Bagleys to-day,” Mrs. Jones remarked, nodding to my wife. ”We felt they ought to be encouraged.”

”So did we,” my wife replied, sotto voce.

We afterward learned that the Bagleys had been provisioned for nearly a month by the good-will of neighbors, who, a short time since, had been ready to take up arms against them.

By eight o'clock everything was cleared away, Mrs. Jones a.s.sisting my wife, and showing that she would be hurt if not permitted to do so.

Then we all gathered around the glowing hearth, Junior's rat-a-tat-snap! proving that our final course of nuts and cider would be provided in the usual way.

How homely it all was! how free from any attempt at display of style!

yet equally free from any trace of vulgarity or ill-natured gossip.

Mousie had added grace to the banquet with her blooming plants and dried gra.s.ses; and, although the dishes had been set on the table by my wife's and children's hands, they were daintily ornamented and inviting. All had been within our means and accomplished by ourselves; and the following morning brought no regretful thoughts. Our helpful friends went home, feeling that they had not bestowed their kindness on unthankful people whose scheme of life was to get and take, but not to return.

CHAPTER XLIV

WE CAN MAKE A LIVING IN EDEN

Well, our first year was drawing to a close. The 1st of December was celebrated by an event no less momentous than the killing of our pigs, to Winnie's and Bobsey's intense excitement. In this affair my wife and I were almost helpless, but Mr. Jones and Bagley were on hand, and proved themselves veterans, while Mrs. Jones stood by my wife until the dressed animals were transformed into souse, head-cheese, sausage, and well-salted pork. The children feasted and exulted through all the processes, especially enjoying some sweet spareribs.

I next gave all my attention, when the weather permitted, to the proper winter covering of all the strawberries, and to the cutting and carting home of old and dying trees from the wood lot.

The increasing cold brought new and welcome pleasures to the children.